


Post Tenebras Lux

by that_1_incident



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Madam Spellman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 06:49:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16781785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_1_incident/pseuds/that_1_incident
Summary: Although participating in the first witch exorcism ever performed hadn't been on Zelda's agenda for the evening, Sabrina seems determined to be the death of everyone around her in one way or another, and Zelda always did enjoy breaking glass ceilings.(Based on the interactions between Ms. Wardwell and Zelda in "Chilling Adventures of Sabrina" 1x06, "An Exorcism in Greendale.")*Post tenebras lux; light after darkness





	Post Tenebras Lux

**Author's Note:**

> This is saved on my Google Drive as _Post-exorcism bullshit idk don't look at me_. So, with that said, here's some post-exorcism bullshit; idk, don't look at me.
> 
> S/o to [skatingsplits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatingsplits/works) for weighing in on parts of this prior to publication, and for deigning to answer ridiculously worded queries like “Not to murder you in the workplace, but d’you think Zelda wears a slip?”
> 
> More Madam Spellman can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16523309), [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16575416), [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16676707), [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16922571), [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17299514), [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17659382), and [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18279485) (if you're into that kind of thing).

Although participating in the first witch exorcism ever performed hadn't been on Zelda's agenda for the evening, Sabrina seems determined to be the death of everyone around her in one way or another, and Zelda always did enjoy breaking glass ceilings.

\--

Zelda arrives at the Putnam house in the nick of time, praise Satan. After she seizes her sister's hand and calls upon their foremothers, the energy in the room feels breath-holdingly tenuous for a few heart-stopping seconds until the demon finally succumbs with a sickening squelch. Sabrina's teacher - Mary Wardwell - immediately steps forth to pick up the demon's writhing body without so much as a flinch, and although Zelda's been historically displeased by the other woman's mere existence, she allows herself a moment to be mildly impressed. 

As the unlikely foursome heads back to the mortuary grounds to dispose of Apophis for good, Zelda wonders what to do with the energy coursing through her veins, the residual high from the surge. It's been _decades_ since she got a thrill like this from individual spellwork, and as Hilda and Sabrina practically feel like extensions of herself in this regard, the exorcism and/or the addition of Mary must be the culprit. The obvious answer is exclusively the former, but there's something about the latter that means Zelda's hesitant to write her off; between the other woman's skillful spellcasting and her smoldering appearance, working with Mary makes Zelda feel as if she's plugging herself into a power plant.

\--

"I don't know about you three," Hilda announces cheerfully, "but I could do with a nice, hot cup of tea."

Although Zelda only approves of her sister sparingly and voices her approval even less frequently than that, she's confident she's never thought more highly of Hilda than she does in this moment. It's dark outside, and it's November, and leaning over the cool, hard stone of the well into which they cast the demon has left Zelda feeling chilled to the bone. She can think of nothing she'd like more than a steaming mug, a soft robe, and the slippers Sabrina bought her six years ago for Mother's Day that are now practically threadbare but which she will never, ever throw away. 

"Oh, yes," she breathes, hoping she doesn't sound as exhausted as she feels; they all moved a lot of energy tonight, but it's unseemly for her to appear anything less than entirely put-together, especially in front of an outsider. "Let's go home." 

"Ms. Wardwell?" Sabrina asks, and although Zelda instantly knows what her niece is going to say next, she can't quite manage to glare at the girl in time to head her off at the pass. "Will you join us?"

Mary stills as if this is the first time she's been asked such a thing, and Zelda wonders - not for the first time - whether the other woman's really who she says she is. In Zelda's perspicacious estimation, there's something going on beneath the surface. 

"Oh, no, I've intruded enough for one day," Mary demurs, sounding slightly embarrassed, and Zelda's pleased. The slippers beckon. "But if one of you wouldn't mind guiding me in the right direction…" 

Mary glances about herself melodramatically, and Zelda's tickled by the idea that the other woman actually expects any of them to swallow this maladroit display of disorientation. 

"I'll show you!" Sabrina volunteers immediately; Zelda barely resists the urge to roll her eyes. 

"Nonsense," she intercedes swiftly, holding up a hand. "Go inside and have some tea with your Aunt Hilda; I'll take care of this."

Sabrina gets a quizzical expression on her face, and Zelda wishes she were capable of following orders without asking questions.

" _Now_ , Sabrina," she says sternly, and her niece shoots Mary a rueful smile. 

"See you tomorrow, Ms. Wardwell." 

\--

Zelda and Mary stand in silence until Sabrina's out of earshot, at which point the former affixes the latter with a withering look. 

"I'm simply trying to vacate the premises," Mary protests sweetly before Zelda can so much as open her mouth. The other woman is brimming with wide-eyed innocence and righteous indignation, and Zelda buys precisely none of it. "I don't know why you -"

Zelda has no time for her nonsense. " _Please_." 

With eyebrows raised high and lips parted in surprise, Mary's face is almost comical. Zelda would laugh if she weren't so irritated. 

"Follow me," she says brusquely, expecting Mary to refuse, but for a wonder, the other woman falls obediently in line behind her. Still, Mary seems determined to live up to her low expectations eventually, and it isn't long until Zelda feels a hand against the small of her back. "What in Satan's name do you think you're doing?" she snaps, coming to an abrupt halt and whipping around in a single fluid motion that stops Mary in her tracks. Thanks to the sudden adrenaline spike, Zelda's formerly waning post-exorcism rush comes flooding back in full force. 

"It's been a while for you, hasn't it?" Mary asks, her voice annoyingly even, and while her tone is airy and unthreatening, her eyes are glittering dangerously. 

"I can't possibly know what you mean," Zelda retorts. 

"Since you collaborated with someone." Mary cants her hip at a perilous angle as if to emphasize the point she's trying to make, and Zelda thinks she looks ridiculous. "On spellwork, that is."

"Oh." Zelda feels flustered. She hopes it isn't obvious that she'd presumed Mary had been referring to... well, something else instead. "I suppose so, yes, with the exception of my family and the coven."

Mary's already too-taut smile somehow widens even further as she asks breathlessly, "It's _exciting_ , isn't it?"

It is, although Zelda's not sure she feels comfortable with Mary knowing she thinks so. She'd been doing her best to blame as much of her unusual frame of mind on the thrill of the exorcism as possible, but now that she's alone in Mary's presence, she has the distinctly unwelcome inkling that she was altogether incorrect. 

Undeterred by Zelda's non-response, Mary continues, "Surely you aren't expecting to be able to sleep now, are you? If you're anything like me, you'll need to burn off some of that… residual energy." 

Zelda most certainly is _not_ anything like Mary, nor does she appreciate the implication. "I'm sure I'll be fine," she replies as frostily as she can, but Mary stares at her silently, simmeringly, skeptically, until she sighs and asks in spite of herself, "What did you have in mind?"

By way of an answer, Mary grins ferally, clasps Zelda's wrists, and pushes her thumbs unceremoniously against Zelda's pulse points. Even on the grounds of her own residence, Zelda suddenly feels exposed and defenseless and very, very overstimulated. She realizes she has no way to regulate her rapidly thudding heartbeat, and to add insult to injury, her traitorous body is betraying her further with every pump.

Zelda takes a slow, steadying breath and reminds herself that she's faced much greater challenges in life than Mary Wardwell - and yet, in what she resolutely chooses not to interpret as a harbinger of things to come, the aforementioned breath catches in her throat when Mary surveys their immediate surroundings and nods approvingly. 

"Here is fine," she declares, then pins Zelda against the nearest wall.

\--

Zelda's not exactly comfortable; the exterior of the house is hard and cold and somewhat damp from the drizzle that had blanketed Greendale in a soft haze earlier that day, although she can't quite bring herself to mind. Instead, her attention is captivated by Mary's eyes, which in turn are trained on her in a manner that's both unsettling and deeply titillating. 

Mary's piercing gaze rakes across her face as if the other woman is appraising what she sees and finds it wanting, which causes Zelda's cheeks to flush. Zelda knows what's coming, senses it yet can't stop it: Mary's about to test her, and she has a sinking feeling that she's about to fail. 

Sure enough, Mary bites her lip carefully and deliberately, staring at Zelda all the while, and Zelda hears a soft noise escape her mouth before she can do anything to try to curb it. When her pulse spikes beneath Mary's fingertips, the other woman looks positively delighted. 

"Well," Mary breathes, and Zelda doesn't understand why she can't just speak normally, why everything has to be whispery and coated with no fewer than five layers of velvety disdain. "I think you're ready now, darling."

 _For what_ , Zelda wants to ask, but if she's being honest, she already knows. More to the point, her _body_ knows, and as if to underscore the sentiment, an insistent, pooling ache announces its presence at the apex of her thighs. 

Mary lifts a hand to Zelda's hair and swirls a strand around her finger, her knuckles grazing Zelda's cheek in the process. When Zelda shivers in spite of herself, the other woman parts her lips like she's about to bite something - or wants to. As Mary slowly trails her fingertips down the slope of Zelda's neck to linger at her collarbone, Zelda feels distinctly lightheaded.

"Look at this alabaster skin," Mary murmurs almost to herself as she traces the line of Zelda's clavicle, her eyes gleaming. Every nerve in Zelda's body feels like it's standing to attention. "It'd be a shame to mar it."

Zelda swallows hard and silently praises Satan for the fact that Mary's no longer grasping her wrists in both hands. While she doubts there's empirical evidence to back up this supposition, her heart rate feels fast as a hummingbird's.

Mary beams at her. "But it's necessary."

Zelda's stomach flips like it did when she and Hilda took Sabrina to Six Flags and she unwittingly agreed to board something called the Steamin' Demon, which sounded promisingly satanic but was actually just a roller coaster that made her distinctly queasy. Almost in slow motion, she watches Mary's head dip down toward her décolletage, and the eventual press of the other woman's lips on her skin is nothing less than searing. Against all odds, she manages to muffle her gasp.

As if to express disappointment with this frankly laudable display of restraint, Mary nips at Zelda's clavicle before kissing a quick, precise path to the hollow of her neck and proceeding to hover above it. When her breath hits yet another of Zelda's pulse points, Zelda learns that waiting for Mary's touch is a unique and exquisite type of agony, and the knowledge that the other woman's mouth is _right there_ yet not _quite there_ threatens to drive her mad. She tilts her head in search of relief and Mary all but chuckles; it's a sinister, silky sound, and Zelda feels a petulant whine build in the back of her throat.

"Did you want something, darling?" Mary purrs, and Zelda struggles mightily to keep the frustration off her countenance. 

"No," she grinds out tersely. It's the blackest lie she's ever told, and she knows Mary doesn't believe it for a second. 

"Say _please_ ," Mary chides lightly, as if it's not worth her time to challenge Zelda's blatant untruth, and Zelda closes her eyes in irritation. The other woman has barely touched her, yet she already feels like she's unraveling.

When she senses Mary begin to pull away, Zelda parts her lashes in alarm, only to be met by a maddeningly playful smirk. In a not entirely unpredictable turn of events, Mary's toying with her like a cat - and she's falling for it like a mouse. She huffs a little and refuses to meet the other woman's gaze. 

"Please." 

\--

The startling warmth of Mary's mouth shouldn't make Zelda feel as caught unawares as it does, but despite having begged for this very eventuality to come to pass mere moments ago, Zelda somehow isn't adequately prepared for it. For her part, Mary seems pleased by the noises she elicits as her tongue laves Zelda's skin, and the other woman sucks insistently until she yields the first bloom of what promises to ripen into a distinctly colorful bruise. Zelda's skittering pulse jumps to meet her lips.

\--

The persistent chill of autumn that permeates the Greendale air year-round typically necessitates at least a couple of layers of clothing, and today is no exception - Zelda's wearing a coat, a dress, and a slip beneath, and Mary summarily disregards all three as she runs her hand up Zelda's thigh. It feels as if the other woman is everywhere at once, persistently pushing their bodies together until Zelda's sandwiched between a Mary and a hard place, and Zelda can't breathe quite as deeply as she'd like to, and she might secretly love that.

Mary pulls away with a final, perfunctory bite that makes Zelda yelp and proceeds to regard her with ethereally pale eyes that are both curious and calculating - not to mention decidedly overwhelming to look directly into. When the other woman dips her chin, Zelda thinks for a second that she's going to close the distance between their mouths, but Mary glides to her knees instead and smiles devilishly as she lifts up Zelda's dress. 

\--

Mary may be practically genuflecting in front of Zelda, but she's very much in control nonetheless. Zelda's never watched someone like this, having historically displayed a preference for sightlessly heralding the Dark Lord with increasingly reckless abandon over paying much mind to whoever's situated between her legs, but she's spellbound as Mary bows her head reverently, carefully navigates through the assorted fabrics that separate her from what she's seeking, then sighs happily when she's finally able to flatten her tongue against Zelda's cunt. 

\--

Mary's beautifully angular face is mostly obscured from this vantage point, and the other woman's tongue flickers just a shade more softly than Zelda would prefer, which Zelda's sure is intentional. She slips her fingers into Mary's hair, wishing she could trust that she wouldn't completely lose her balance if she were to remove her other hand from the conveniently located drain pipe onto which she's currently clinging, and Mary arches into her touch like a cat. Encouraged, Zelda closes her fist and tugs, which prompts the other woman to glance up at her sharply. Mary's mouth may be full but her eyes are hungry, and Zelda finds it thrilling to hold her gaze; Mary stares back almost defiantly, positively daring her not to further unravel with every passing second, and Zelda's almost certain that would be entirely impossible.

Presently, something indescribable flashes across Mary's features, and before Zelda can theorize about what this might portend for the immediate future, Mary's fingers enter her decisively and she instinctively clenches around them. She can't help but whine in an embarrassingly plaintive fashion when, moments later, Mary withdraws just as promptly, leaving her agonizingly stricken and then plunging back in at an angle that would have elicited a scream if not for the fact that Zelda's _really_ trying to be quiet. 

Before Zelda has a chance to mentally acclimate to this latest development, she feels Mary's free hand snaking up her side and immediately bites her lip, already aware of the other woman's intended destination. Sure enough, Mary blindly drags the pad of her thumb across the firm peak of Zelda's nipple, then pinches hard enough to engender a moan. Zelda can tell Mary's pleased with herself because she feels the other woman's lips curve into a smile against her center. 

Needless to say, it isn't long before Zelda feels a tingle ignite then alight under Mary's busy tongue. It amplifies with alacrity, spreading through her body like wildfire and causing a shudder so great, Zelda's surprised she doesn't tear the whole house down. Pinned by Mary's careful, lascivious gaze, she opens her mouth in a soundless, choking inhalation punctuated by a ragged whimper, and she's unendingly thankful for the cool solidity of the wall behind her as everything else is thrown violently off its axis. All the while, Mary continues to lap at her heat with an uncharacteristic tenderness, licking her through the arc of her climax before depositing her safely on the other side of it with the gentle press of a kiss, and Zelda's left feeling precarious and grateful.

\--

Infuriatingly, Mary makes no move to get up from the ground once her services have been rendered; instead, she crouches like a lioness and wears a decidedly self-satisfied smirk as she watches Zelda gather herself dazedly. Zelda's stunned to the point of struggling to come to her senses, and on top of everything else, she realizes she must have slowly slid down the wall at some point during the proceedings, which undoubtedly did horrifying things to the back of her favorite coat. She wonders if Mary expects her to reciprocate, if she should wait for the ringing in her ears and the weakness in her knees to lessen before she offers, and her pensiveness must be written all over her face because Mary assures her, "Oh, don't worry, really, it's awfully soggy out here; I couldn't possibly." 

Zelda's momentarily offended, and again, she must look it, because Mary laughs - a sweet, joyful sound that seems to take them both by surprise. Mary purses her lips as if to reset herself, then rises on her haunches and reaches over to help Zelda up. Zelda reluctantly releases the drain pipe, confident as she is that it's a safer port in a storm than the hand of Mary Wardwell, but after she finds her balance, Mary lets go without incident. 

"This way, yes?" Mary inquires as she indicates the direction in which Zelda had intended they proceed before getting waylaid, and Zelda offers nothing more than a brisk nod in response, unsure how to speak to Mary now that the other woman is aware of what she tastes like. "Please do let me know when you'll next be exorcising a demon at one of my students' houses," Mary implores her coolly, apparently by way of goodbye, and Zelda feels thoroughly dismissed. "Perhaps we can do this again sometime." 

"It was… a pleasure," Zelda responds awkwardly; although displaying gratitude comes anything but naturally to her, she feels obligated to do so under the circumstances.

Mary regales her with an unapologetically wicked grin and wiggles the tips of her fingers in a little wave - an incongruously innocent motion for someone whose red-lacquered nails are still glistening from their earlier activities. "Oh, I know it was," she confirms archly, turning on her heels.

Zelda watches the other woman leave with a mix of incredulous fondness and unbridled annoyance, then pulls herself together as best she can and turns to head inside. 

She'll never again be able to look at the easterly side of the house without blushing.


End file.
